Regeneration eBook

The congregation which I saw on this particular occasion
seemed to me to consist for the most part of elderly
men; in fact, some of them were very old, and the
average age of those who attended the Penitent-Form
I estimated at about thirty-five years. This,
however, varies. I am informed that at times
they are mostly young persons. It must be remembered—­and
the statement throws a lurid light upon the conditions
prevailing in London, as in other of our great cities—­that
the population which week by week attends these Sunday
morning services is of an ever-shifting character.
Doubtless, there are some habitues and others
who reappear from time to time. But the most of
the audience is new. Every Saturday night the
highways and the hedges, or rather the streets and
the railway arches yield a new crop of homeless and
quite destitute wanderers. These are gathered
into the Blackfriars Shelter, and go their bitter
road again after the rest, the breakfast, and the
service. But as we have seen here a substantial
proportion, about 10 per cent, remain behind.
These are all interviewed separately and fed, and
on the following morning as many of them as vacancies
can be found for in the Paper Works Elevator or elsewhere
are sent thither.

I saw plenty of these men, and with them others who
had been rescued previously; so many, indeed, that
it is impossible to set out their separate cases.
Looking through my notes made at the time, I find
among them a schoolmaster, an Australian who fought
in South Africa, a publican who had lost L2,000 in
speculation and been twelve months on the streets,
a sailor and two soldiers who between them had seen
much service abroad, and a University man who had
tried to commit suicide from London Bridge.

Also there was a person who was recently described
in the newspapers as the ‘dirtiest man in London.’
He was found sitting on the steps of a large building
in Queen Victoria Street, partly paralysed from exposure.
So filthy and verminous was he, that it was necessary
to scrape his body, which mere washing would not touch.
When he was picked up, a crowd of several hundred
people followed him down the street, attracted by
his dreadful appearance. His pockets were full
of filth, amongst which were found 5s. in coppers.
He had then been a month in the Shelter, where he
peels or peeled potatoes, etc., and looked quite
bright and clean.

Most of these people had been brought down by the
accursed drink, which is the bane of our nation, and
some few by sheer misfortune.

Neither at the service, nor afterwards, did I see
a single Jew, for the fallen of that race seem to
be looked after by their fellow religionists.
Moreover, the Jews do not drink to excess. Foreigners,
also, are comparatively scarce at Blackfriars and in
the other Shelters.

THE EX-CRIMINALS

On the afternoon of the Sunday on which I visited
the Blackfriars Shelter, I attended another service,
conducted by Commissioner Sturgess, at Quaker Street.